


My Home's In Your Arms

by rainflash



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sharing a Bed, Slash, Slow Burn, knife shoes appreciation society, tags and rating will change as more chapters are added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-07-28 18:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16247213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainflash/pseuds/rainflash
Summary: Yuri develops a habit of showing up at Otabek's hotel room door when he can't cope with his own emotions.





	1. 2015 World Championships

“No way in hell.” Otabek made to shut the door, but Yuri’s leopard-print shoe wedged itself in the way.

“You said we were friends!”

“We are, but we’re friends who fuck around during gala practices and hang out on days off, not friends who sleep together. You’re fifteen, no way in hell am I risking it.” Otabek nudged the toe of Yuri’s shoe with his own foot, trying to dislodge it from the door.

“Please, Beka.”

The “please” made Otabek pause and look closely at his friend. Standing there in his PJs (track pants and a worn, too-big Team Russia t-shirt that Otabek strongly suspected had once belonged to Viktor) and clutching his stuffed cat, Yuri, for once, looked his age. But it was his eyes that made Otabek open the door. He’d told Yuri when they first met that Yuri had the eyes of a soldier, and that was still true, but right then they were those of one who had seen too much. “Yeah, fine, come on.”

Yuri all but bolted into the room and was in the single bed before Otabek had even closed the door. “You can sleep here, but you HAVE to be back in your own room before they come to wake either of us up in the morning. If we were found together it would end my career.”

To Otabek’s surprise, Yuri only nodded and produced his phone from his pants pocket. “I’m setting my alarm for five-thirty and I promise to not wake you up when I leave.” Otabek didn’t bother to point out that he’d wake up when the alarm went off anyway. Yuri tossed his phone on the bedside table, then turned to Otabek with a raised eyebrow. “You gonna just stand there all night, then?” There was a hint of Yuri’s usual sass, but the effort fell flat.

“I was giving it serious thought.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Yuri huffed. “Come on, Beka, seriously, I’m exhausted and just want a few hours of good sleep.”

Otabek sighed and slid into his bed, being careful to not touch Yuri as he settled. “Go to sleep, kid,” he said as he turned the lamp off.

They laid in silence for a few minutes, but Otabek couldn’t sleep listening to Yuri’s quick, irregular breathing. It was obvious he was still awake and upset. “You want to tell me why you showed up outside my door?” He kept his voice at a whisper, giving Yuri the option to pretend he hadn’t heard.

He’d almost decided that Yuri had made that choice when Yuri finally spoke. “The couple in the room next to mine... they’re not skaters... they’re fighting. I couldn’t sleep with the yelling.”

“Should I call the front desk?”

He felt Yuri shake his head. “No. No, it isn’t bad...”

The weight Yuri gave the word “bad” suddenly made everything clear to Otabek and his heart ached for his young friend. He reached out in the dark, his hand finding a trembling shoulder. “Come on.” He gave a gentle tug and found his arms full of shaking Yuri and a forehead pressed against his collarbone. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Otabek needed Yuri to know that he’d never push for more than what Yuri was willing to give. Yuri already had enough people pushing for more and demanding things from him; Yakov and Lilia, Yuri’s Angels, the Russian Federation, the press, and even Viktor who never seemed to understand that not everyone processed things the way he did. So Otabek was determined to be a safe place for Yuri.

Yuri shrugged a bit. “Alcoholic asshole father who resented my mother for getting knocked up and hated me for existing. Finally put my mother in the nut house and told my grandfather to come get me or else he’d just dump me on the street and forget I existed.”

Otabek went completely still as he fought every impulse to jump out of bed, track Yuri’s father down, and castrate the man slowly with a rusty spoon. He didn’t exactly have a model family himself but at least they were functional. “Beka...?” Yuri’s voice was shaky and cautious and Otabek realized with a pang of guilt that Yuri had taken his silence and stiffness as a judgment of him.

“I’m sorry Yura. I’m so sorry.” He squeezed Yuri gently and pressed a kiss into his hair. With his brashness and loud mouth sometimes it was easy to forget that Yuri was just a kid.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, asshole, I don’t want your pity.” Yuri pulled back just enough to glare up at Otabek. He wasn’t crying, but only just.

“I don’t feel sorry for you, and nor should anyone else. You won gold at your first ever senior GPF, you’ve already broken one of Nikiforov’s records, and the rest of us here at Worlds are quaking in our boots. You’re an incredibly strong person and you can handle anything life throws at you. I’m just sorry for the things you’ve had to go through.” Otabek’s eyes caught Yuri’s and he could see the doubt that lingered there. “Okay?” It was important to him that Yuri believe and trust him.

Finally Yuri exhaled and wrapped his arms around Otabek’s waist, settling back in. “Okay.”

Otabek pulled Yuri closer and shifted them both into a more comfortable position. “You’re not defined by your past but by how you choose to live in the present.” He felt a hot burst of breath against his neck when Yuri snorted. 

“What the fuck? You’re such a dork.”

Otabek smiled, by now well-used to Yuri’s odd form of affection. “Hmm, maybe. Now go to sleep, we both have to skate tomorrow.”

“You’re the one who keeps talking,” Yuri mumbled. Otabek fell asleep with a smile on his face.

He woke up alone to the sound of his coach knocking on his door with a warning that he had 45 minutes before the bus left for the venue. He grumbled something at the door and rolled over to grab his phone to double-check the time. There was a single text notification, which he swiped open. It was from Yuri, of course, and contained a single word, “thanks”. When he ran into Yuri at the rink hours later and Yuri asked what was wrong with his face, Otabek just smiled bigger in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! feel free to join me on discord! https://discord.gg/MA3xw7


	2. 2015 Skate Canada

Yuri kicks at the door of Otabek’s hotel room with the steel toe of his boot. “Hey, let me in.” When there’s no immediate answer he kicks it again, harder this time. “Otabek, I know you’re in there, open the fucking door!”

A moment later the door’s flung open, revealing a slightly disheveled Otabek. “Holy shit, Yura, you do know that if you break the door they’ll make me pay for it?”

“Just tell them to charge it to the Russian Federation,” Yuri grouches as he pushes past Otabek into the room.

“Or you could just not break it in the first place.” Otabek sighs and closes the door behind himself, resigned to the fact that he’s not going to have the quiet evening he was planning.

Yuri throws himself down on the single bed and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He’s back up a moment later, though, crossing the room to the minibar and pulling out two small bottles of vodka.

“Yuri... Please put those back.”

“Jesus, Beka, what’s the big deal? I’m allowed to have wine when we go to dinner in Russia, and Viktor and I...” He trails off and bites the inside of his cheek. He’s not forgiven Viktor for abandoning him for the other Yuuri yet and he’s not sure he ever will.

“It isn’t wine, and we’re not in Russia. We’re in Canada and that’s _my_ minibar. I don’t have a whole federation to make excuses for me and dig me out if I get busted for drinking when I’m underage. Yuri, please,” Otabek paused, summoning his patience, “just put them back.” 

“Except you’re not underage anymore, or you won’t be after tomorrow night, so what difference does it make?” Yuri seems to deflate as he talks, slumping back down onto the bed and looking at the two small bottles. On one hand he’s still feeling rebellious, but on the other hand he desperately wants to not disappoint Otabek. Eventually Yuri holds the bottles out to him, unable to meet his eyes. "Here," he says softly.

"Thanks," Otabek says as he returns the bottles to the mini-fridge. "I was just going to have dinner sent up, want me to get you anything?"

"Not hungry," Yuri grumbles as he falls backward onto the bed. He sounds grouchy again and Otabek raises an eyebrow.

"I'll get some mixed fruit for you." He orders his own dinner of chicken breast and steamed veggies as well as Yuri's fruit, and smiles when Yuri also requests a piece of pumpkin pie. "Why didn't you go out to dinner with everyone?" Otabek asks, seemingly nonchalant as he joins Yuri on the bed and settles back against the pillows.

"Why didn't you?" Yuri snaps.

Otabek gives a one-shouldered shrug as he picks up the remote and turns the TV on. "You know I don't really hang out with the other skaters that much. But you're friendly enough with a few of them, why didn't you go?"

Yuri huffs and falls back hard against the pillows next to Otabek. "I'm tired of them treating me like a kid! Ever since I got here they've been talking down to me and they keep messing with me and I hate them! Now they're all out at some restaurant where they can drink and I can't, and after tomorrow night you'll be one of them." He crosses his arms and slumps down into his hoodie, trying to hide the pink tingeing his cheeks.

"Oh, Yura." Otabek feels like he should be insulted but this isn't really about him, it's about Yuri and the abandonment issues that he refuses to recognize. "I asked if you were going to be my friend, and you said yes. You're not getting rid of me that easily." He's itching to give Yuri a hug but doesn't want to risk coming across as patronizing. He gives Yuri the remote instead. "Here, pick something to watch." It's obvious that Yuri is still unsettled, but Otabek is tired of wringing information out of him, so they sit quietly and watch one of the Harry Potter movies until room service knocks on the door.

"Take off your boots if you're going to stay on my bed to eat." Otabek slaps Yuri's boots as he shuffles things around on the bedside table to make room for their food. Yuri's boots fly across the room and thump against the wall, followed by his hoodie. He lunges across Otabek to grab his pie and a fork, a hand on Otabek's thigh for balance and leverage. "Jesus, Yuri!" Otabek leans back to avoid being elbowed in the face as Yuri settles back to the other side of the bed. "Are you sure you don't want a proper dinner?"

"No, this is fine," Yuri says around a mouthful of pie. "But thanks."

"Yeah, no problem." Otabek settles his plate in his lap and is not at all surprised when Yuri steals some of his chicken.

The empty plates are stacked neatly on the table and the movie is nearly over when Yuri finally quietly asks, "Did you mean it when you said you'll still be my friend after tomorrow?"

Otabek's heart clenches in his chest and this time he can't resist slipping an arm around Yuri and pulling him tight to his side. "Of course I'll still be your friend after tomorrow. Yeah, it's my birthday but that doesn't really change anything. I'll be old enough to drink here, but not in other places we visit - not even in my own country. And I don't really have any desire to go out and drink with everyone else anyway; I've seen them all drunk enough times to know it's not pretty. Don't you remember Barcelona? And the GPF the year before?"

Yuri gives a mock-shudder and settles more comfortably against Otabek's side, his head coming to rest on Otabek's shoulder. "Don't fucking remind me."

Otabek smiles at Yuri's surly tone. "Yura, you're my friend and nothing as unremarkable as a birthday is going to change that. The others? Acquaintances and rivals, nothing more than that."

"Okay." Yuri still doesn't sound entirely convinced, but Otabek knows more words won't do any good; he's going to have to show Yuri he means what he said.

"Hey, my coach is taking me for a birthday dinner tomorrow after the free. You're going to come, right?" Birthdays have never been that important to Otabek, but if Yuri's there it feels like this one could be.

"Yeah, that sounds good." Yuri picks up the remote and hands it to Otabek. "Your turn to choose." He wriggles and shifts around until he can pull the bedspread out from under them and pulls it up over them instead, curling into Otabek's side.

Warmth spreads through Otabek as he slides his arm back around Yuri and leans his cheek against Yuri's soft hair. This is a side of Yuri that nobody besides he and probably Viktor know, and it breaks his heart that Yuri feels the need to hide and protect himself. At the same time, he feels honored that Yuri trusts him enough to let Otabek see this side of him. 

Otabek finds The Fifth Element just starting, and by the time Corbin and Leeloo leave for planet Fhloston, he and Yuri are both sound asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you so much for reading! if you liked it, please drop me a comment and let me know! you can find me on [tumblr](http://myfairprouvaire.tumblr.com), or you can join me on discord!
> 
> also, huge thanks go to lujack for all her encouragement with this chapter!


	3. 2016 World Championships

Otabek dreads but isn't surprised by the knock on his door at nearly midnight, and he actually has to debate whether or not to answer it. He could just not and tell Yuri tomorrow that he was sleeping and didn't hear it. But he's never lied to Yuri and he doesn't want to start now, especially over something like this. So instead he sighs deeply and forces himself up off the bed and across the room. He's barely gotten the door open before Yuri comes bouncing in, exuding energy and alcohol, his suit rumpled and tie hanging loose around his neck. " I didn't see you at the... the... the thing! ...Feast... Thing!"

"Banquet." Otabek counts to ten as he digs a bottle of water out of his bag and hands it to Yuri. "I was there for a little while. I saw you, but you were occupied. Then I left" The truth is he'd not wanted to go to the banquet at all and had been late to arrive by the time his coach bullied him into it. He'd walked into the room, spotted Yuri surrounded by well-wishers and enjoying every glowing moment of attention, and turned around to walk right back out the door without saying a word to anyone or having a single drink.

"Why did you leave? You should have stayed, I wanted you!" Yuri sets the bottle of water on the table and pouts at Otabek.

He tries not to think about Yuri's choice of words, especially paired with that pout. "Didn't really feel like celebrating." He points at the water bottle. "Drink that."

Yuri rolls his eyes but drains half the bottle in one go. His face lights up as an idea hits him. "We should go out and celebrate since you didn't come to the banquet!" As if he hadn't heard what Otabek had just said.

"Why don't you just go celebrate with Viktor and Yuuri?" Otabek fights hard to keep his voice neutral, to not give away just how shitty and grouchy he feels.

"Ugh. Because they're being all gross. Also, Viktor keeps talking about how the 'whole family'" he actually makes air quotes with his fingers, "made the podium. Besides, I see them all the time. I never get to see you." He sits on the edge of the bed and ducks his head slightly, big green eyes peering up at Otabek through his hair. "I miss you."

Otabek sighs and sits next to Yuri, bumping him slightly with his shoulder. "I know." I miss you too, he wants to say but somehow just can't. "I'm sorry," he says instead. "I'm just not in the mood to celebrate tonight. If you don't want to hang out with Viktor and Yuuri I'm sure Chris and some of the others are still out partying."

"None of them will sneak me drinks. But I just won my first gold at Worlds, I want to celebrate with you! I just wish you'd been on the podium with me! It would have made everything even more perfect!" He turns to Otabek with a bright, alcohol-fueled smile, but Otabek can't bring himself to return it.

"Yeah, that would have been better, wouldn't it?" Bitterness edges into his voice and he hates the way it makes Yuri physically pull away from him. "Sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry, Yuri. Please, go enjoy your win and have a good time, we can hang out tomorrow. I promise I'll try to be in a better mood."

Yuri looks stricken. "No, Beka, I'm so sorry. I should have realized... I've been such a dick going on and on about celebrating when you're obviously feeling like shit." He bites his lip and stands up. "I can go if you want to be by yourself. Sorry, I should have thought. Sorry. I'm a shitty friend and I'm... sorry." He starts toward the door and Otabek knows he's trying not to cry.

"No. No, don't go. This is all screwed up and not how it's supposed to be." He reaches out and grabs Yuri's hand, stopping him in his tracks. "You're not a shitty friend. You have every right to be happy and excited, and I should be happy for you. I AM happy for you, I really am. You absolutely deserved this. I just realized that with the three of you competing, there's not really room left for the rest of us. Fourth place is the best I could have hoped for, and I should be happy with it. Please, don't let me stop you from enjoying your win." He's still holding Yuri's hand and finds that he doesn't really want to let go.

Yuri's eyes meet Otabek's, searching. "Do you want me to leave? I'd get it if you did. Just... tell me what you want me to do."

"Stay," Otabek says before he can overthink and talk himself out of it. "Please stay." His fingers tighten around Yuri's and Yuri squeezes back.

"I'm borrowing your shower, though." He finally drops Otabek's hand as he heads for the bathroom, and Otabek feels inexplicably bereft. Yuri trips over apparently nothing on his way around the bed and nearly crashes face first into the desk. He manages to save himself just in time, his nose just a few inches from the edge of the desk. "Holy shit, that would have been embarrassing showing up to gala practice tomorrow and explaining how I broke my face walking across the room."

Otabek's heart is still in his throat as he retracts the hand he'd instinctively thrown out to try to catch Yuri. "How much have you had to drink?"

Yuri shrugs. "Hmmmm, not sure? I took care of Viktor's forgotten glasses of champagne. Not like it was vodka, though, I'm not really drunk, just a bit tipsy."

"Yeah, I can see that," Otabek says drily. "Do you think you can manage to take a shower without slipping and cracking your head open?"

Yuri flips him off and Otabek can't help smiling. "Give me something to wear, because I'm not getting back into this suit." With that, he disappears into the bathroom, not even waiting for a reply.

Once the shower is going Otabek digs through his bags until he finds a pair of shorts and a faded Foo Fighters t-shirt for Yuri, and he ducks into the bathroom just long enough to leave the clothes by the sink. Back in the room he picks up his laptop and carries it over to the desk then opens Abelton, figuring he can get some mixing done while he waits for Yuri.

Just about the time he's starting to worry that Yuri did actually fall and split his head open, the bathroom door opens and Yuri appears in a billow of steam like some weird magician. Otabek glances up then looks again. Yuri is still a bit damp around the edges and Otabek's t-shirt is a bit too large on him, trying to slide off his shoulder and exposing his collarbone. Otabek tracks a drop of water that drips off Yuri's hair and rolls down his clavicle. 

"What're you looking at?" Yuri looks down at himself, trying to see whatever Otabek sees.

"Hmm?" Otabek blinks. "Oh. Nothing, sorry. Tired." 

"Okaaaayyy. Weirdo." Yuri comes over and props his chin on top of Otabek's head, looking at the laptop screen. "Skating or DJing?"

"DJing. I haven't even begun thinking about next season's programs yet." Otabek makes a few adjustments and then saves his work, too distracted to continue. "Feeling better after your shower? Congrats on not cracking your skull open, by the way."

"Asshole," Yuri murmurs. "But yeah. Sleepy now, though." His chin digs into the top of Otabek's head. 

"I bet you are, you've had a big day." He tips his head back, dislodging Yuri. "Want to call it a night?"

"Yeah, I think so. Sorry, I wanted to stay up longer with you but once I got in the shower, that was the end of it."

"Come on, then." Otabek gets up and for a moment he and Yuri just look at each other and Otabek tries not to feel awkward. They've shared beds before, but with the exception of that first time Yuri showed up at his hotel room they've always just fallen asleep watching movies or playing video games. They've never gone to bed together before.

"Uhm. Which... which side do you want?" Yuri turns toward the bed, but not before Otabek spots the pink growing on his cheeks.

"I really don't care, my bed at home is too small to even really have sides." He shrugs and absently straightens a few things around the room, trying to ignore the odd feeling in his chest.

"Then you need a bigger bed."

When Otabek finally turns back to the bed, Yuri is already under the covers, phone in hand. Otabek tells himself he's being stupid and slides into the empty side of the bed, reaching up to turn the light off. "Don't stay on your phone all night, we do have a gala tomorrow." He turns onto his right side and closes his eyes, wishing that he was used to sleeping on his left or that Yuri had chosen the other side of the bed, because this leaves him facing Yuri. There's some shifting around on the other side of the bed, and then he can feel Yuri settling down. When he cracks an eye open he can just make out that Yuri is curled up facing him. "Since I haven't really said it properly, congratulations on your first Worlds gold. I really am proud of you."

"Thanks." There's a soft smile in Yuri's voice and a moment or two of hesitation before Yuri shuffles closer to lean his head against Otabek's shoulder. "That really means a lot."

Otabek carefully drapes an arm over Yuri's waist and Yuri moves closer, properly tucking himself right up against Otabek. "Night Beka," he murmurs, breath hot on Otabek's neck.

"Good night, Yura." Otabek falls asleep with his nose in Yuri's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading! please feel free to leave a comment, i always love to hear from my readers (especially people checking up on the new chapter)!
> 
> also, i'm posting this chapter from London, Ontario, five minutes before walking out the door to go see Virtue and Moir's Thank You Canada Tour!


	4. 2016 Rostelecom

Otabek sits with his back against his hotel room door. The moment the knock comes, he jumps to his feet and barely has the door open before Yuri falls forward into him, wrapping his arms around Otabek's waist and burying his face against his neck. He can feel himself shaking and Otabek holds him tightly, as if to physically keep him together. "Oh Yura," Otabek whispers into Yuri's ear. "I'm so sorry. That was detestable and cruel." Otabek maneuvers them back slightly so he can shut the door. "You handled it very well, though."

"I didn't know," Yuri mumbles, choking on the lump in his throat. "I didn't..."

It had been horrible to witness. Otabek, Yuri, and Phichit had been sailing through the post-competition press conference, fielding all the usual questions, when one reporter had stood up with a smirk on her face and asked Yuri if he had a statement about his mother and her new husband and baby boy. Otabek had only been able to watch as Yuri processed the question. The color drained from his face and his jaw clenched. Otabek was afraid Yuri's famed temper was going to be unleashed, but instead he'd answered that he wished them well, and that had been it. Otabek had been proud of the way Yuri had handled it, but the look on Yuri's face as he fled the moment the press conference was over had torn at Otabek's heart.

"Shh. Come on." Otabek gently disengages Yuri but keeps an arm around his waist, guiding him over to the chaise lounge. Otabek settles in the corner and Yuri immediately drops next to him, putting his legs across Otabek's lap and leaning against his side, face pressed into Otabek's neck. Otabek holds him close and strokes his back as Yuri takes several deep, hitching breaths. "It's okay, _zhanym_ , you can let go." He leans his head against Yuri's, his free hand coming up to stroke blond hair.

Yuri takes one more hitching breath before he breaks, heaving great, gasping sobs against Otabek's shoulder. He curls up as much as possible, knees up by his chin and feet tucked under Otabek's thigh. His fingers twist painfully into Otabek's shirt as he holds on for dear life against a crashing swell of heartache. He's vaguely aware of gentle hands stroking his back and sifting through his hair, and soft words in his ear, but none of that is really getting through.

Otabek desperately wishes that he could do something, anything, to take the pain away from his friend who has already had to deal with so much. But the only thing he can do is this - hold Yuri while he falls apart. "I know, _kotyonok_ , I know. I'm so sorry." He drops a kiss into Yuri's hair and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hold back his own tears. "It's not fair. You deserve so much better than this." He begins to rock Yuri gently, pressing more kisses onto the top of his head. "I'd take it all away if I could. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

Otabek continues on like that for a long time, until Yuri's sobs eventually subside and he rests heavy and exhausted against Otabek, who continues to stroke Yuri's hair, carefully pulling it away from his damp cheeks and forehead. He gently tips Yuri's face up, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears lingering under Yuri's eyes. "You back with me?"

"Yeah," Yuri answers with a rough voice. "Sorry about that." He lets his eyes fall shut and leans slightly into Otabek's hand.

"Don't. There's nothing to be sorry for." 

Yuri is startled by the firm tone of Otabek's voice and his eyes flicker open, meeting Otabek's. He reaches up and oh-so-gently touches Otabek's damp eyelashes. "You were crying for me?" The idea of Otabek sharing his pain is not exactly new, but he never expected it to affect him this deeply. He traces the tear tracks down Otabek's cheek and to the corner of his mouth. He hesitates a moment, then the tip of his finger ghosts along Otabek's lower lip.

Otabek sits stock still, his heart pounding in his ears. He slowly reaches up and wraps his fingers around Yuri's wrist, gently pulling Yuri's hand away from his face. "Yura..." He's not really sure what he intends to say next.

Yuri's face falls and he tries to pull his wrist from Otabek's grip. "Sorry. Sorry, that was weird, I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay, Yura." Otabek laces his fingers with Yuri's and squeezes gently, then brings Yuri's hand up to brush a kiss across the back of his knuckles.

Yuri nods then sighs and drops his head back down to Otabek's shoulder. Their fingers remain entwined. "My мама is a fucking _suka_ ," he murmurs. "I told you my father had her committed? She wasn't there for very long, but even after she was out, she left me with my _dedushka_. For a while, she'd still come watch me skate sometimes, but eventually she just stopped showing up at all. I used to ask about her sometimes. _Dedushka_ told me when she got a job as a model, but I never heard anything after that." Yuri falls silent and Otabek leans his head against Yuri's. He's going to let Yuri talk all he wants, but in his own time. 

Otabek is just beginning to suspect that Yuri has fallen asleep when he finally speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. "All this time I've been skating to get her attention. Wanting to win her affection as well as gold medals." He sniffles and Otabek squeezes his hand. "I just wanted to be part of a family."

"Yura, you don't need her, family is who you choose it to be. You have your grandfather, and Yakov, and Yuuri and Viktor. Don't grumble, they love you and I know you care about them, otherwise you wouldn't be so hurt by them." He pauses, the next words sitting heavily on his tongue. True, but heavy. "And you have me. You'll always have me." The words are murmured low into Yuri's ear, as if saying them too loud will impart them a meaning he's not ready to face just yet.

Yuri tips his face up, his eyes searching Otabek's. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Altin. Everyone leaves, eventually." 

"Oh _Yuriyim_." Otabek brings both hands up to frame Yuri's face. "I can't claim to know the future, but I have no intentions of leaving you anytime soon." And then before he realizes what's happening, Yuri's lips are on his. The kiss is clumsy, chaste, and hesitant, and Otabek lets it happen, knowing that pulling away would cause irreparable damage to their relationship. Yuri breaks off soon enough, his cheeks pink. He looks up at Otabek, anxiously waiting for his reaction.

Otabek knows he has to choose his words carefully, but he has to say something now before Yuri jumps to the worst conclusion. "Yura... this isn't the right time. You've been through the wringer today, and you need to rest." 

Yuri drops his head and is still for a few moments and Otabek desperately hopes he hasn't just fucked everything up. Yuri finally nods, although he keeps his head down. "Sorry," he whispers.

"Stop apologizing, it's all okay, I promise." Otabek runs a hand down Yuri's back. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Yuri nods again but makes no effort to move, so Otabek carefully extracts himself, then scoops Yuri up into his arms. "We're okay, yeah?" He ducks his head, trying to catch Yuri's eye.

Yuri leans his head on Otabek's shoulder and looks up at him. "Yeah, we're okay. Thank you for putting up with me."

"Shh, I'm not 'putting up' with anything. I care about you." He carries Yuri over to the bed and carefully sets him down. "Can you get yourself undressed?" Yuri nods again and Otabek leaves him to it. He crosses the room to the minifridge and pulls out a bottle of water, then digs around in his bag until he finds a bottle of ibuprofen, shaking two out into his hand. When he turns back to the bed, Yuri's jeans, t-shirt, and boots are in a messy pile and Yuri is under the blankets, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Here, sit up for a second." He hands Yuri the tablets, followed by the water. "You'll avoid a massive headache in the morning if you hydrate and take these now."

Otabek strips down to his underpants then hesitates. "Can I... I can sleep on the lounge if you want."

"No, please-" Yuri's voice cracks and his eyes shine with tears once again, and then Otabek is there, pulling Yuri into his arms and tucking the duvet in around them. Yuri presses himself completely against Otabek and holds on for dear life as a fresh wave of heartbreak overtakes him and he cries onto the skin of Otabek's chest.

Sometime in the small hours of the morning Yuri finally falls asleep with Otabek keeping watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry it took me this long to finish this chapter. there's been a lot going on. thank you to everyone who held my hand with this one, you all helped more than you know. <3
> 
> as always, comments are much appreciated!


	5. 2016 Grand Prix Final

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this one took a bit longer, and i'm sorry about that. it is the longest chapter so far, though, so hopefully that makes up for the wait!

Otabek hears a bit of a fuss just outside his hotel room door and crosses the room to let Yuri and Yakov in. Yuri is leaning on Yakov, his face flushed and eyes glassy, clearly very ill. Otabek watches as Yuri slowly registers his surroundings, and as soon as he spots Otabek's bed he makes his way to it, burrowing under the covers and closing his eyes.

"Thank you for this," Yakov says as they haul Yuri's luggage into Otabek's room. "He can't fly like this, and I have to leave tonight because I have to be in Japan by tomorrow for one of my juniors."

"It's not a problem. As I said, I have the room booked for another two nights anyway." He glances at Yuri huddled under the blankets and his frown deepens. "He's seen the team doctor?" 

Yakov nods. "He saw her before the free and she told him it's the flu and not to skate." He snorts. "Viktor is staying, too. He's still listed as Yuri's next of kin if needed. He's in room 4211. You have his phone number?" Yakov waits for Otabek to nod. "My number is in Yuri's phone if you need it. I don't know how available I'll be, but I'll check my phone when I can."

"Thanks. I'm sure we'll be fine." Otabek glances back over at Yuri and wants nothing more than to go check on him, make sure he really is okay. 

"I'm sorry for doing this to you but if I had suggested he stay with Viktor nothing would have kept him off the plane even in the condition he's in." 

Otabek can only imagine how hard it must be on Yakov for Viktor and Yuri to be nearly completely estranged from each other. "It's fine, really." 

Yakov looks past Otabek at Yuri and seems to hesitate a moment before taking a step back. "I'll check in when I land in Japan." And then he's gone, the door closing gently behind him.

Otabek immediately turns and crosses to the bed. He kneels down next to it and brushes some hair away from Yuri's face. "How are you feeling, Yura? Do you need anything?"

Yuri blinks and looks up at him with hazy eyes. "Hot and kinda nauseous. Can I have a drink?"

"Of course. Have you been throwing up?" Yuri nods slightly. "Then you're probably dehydrated." Otabek pulls a Gatorade out of the fridge and returns to the bed. "Come on, sit up a little bit so you can drink without choking."

Yuri hauls himself up and adjusts the pillows, then falls back against them, utterly exhausted just from that small effort. "Beka, sit with me? Please?"

Without hesitation, Otabek settles himself next to Yuri on the bed. He wants to hug Yuri close but isn't sure if it would be welcome, so he settles instead for bumping their shoulders together gently. "I'm sorry you're sick." 

Yuri drinks some of the Gatorade then sets the bottle on the table next to the bed. "Me too." He sighs and leans his head against Otabek's shoulder. "You're gonna get sick if you stay here with me." Despite his words, Yuri takes Otabek's hand and laces their fingers together.

"It's okay, I don't have another competition until Four Continents. I have time to get sick and recover." He squeezes Yuri's hand. "And it's worth it besides."

It's a sign of just how awful Yuri is feeling that he doesn't snort and call Otabek a "fucking sap", but instead simply snuggles closer and asks if they can watch a movie. Otabek is scrolling through the hotel's offering of movies when Yuri hunches over in a violent coughing fit. It sounds awful and painful and Otabek winces in sympathy, reaching out to gently stroke Yuri's back. The coughing eventually subsides and Yuri whimpers softly, falling forward to bury his face in the blankets.

After a minute or two, Yuri simply rolls onto his side and rests his head in Otabek's lap. "I fucking hate this so much." His voice is low and rough and his face is wet with tears.

"I know, _kotyonok_ , I know. I'm sorry." Yuri looks so small and miserable, and once again Otabek finds himself wishing he could make everything better. Instead, he has to settle for stroking Yuri's hair and occasionally brushing the tears from his face until he falls into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Otabek has is about halfway through watching his second movie when Yuri begins to whimper and squirm in his sleep. His head is still in Otabek's lap, and now Otabek's hand returns to Yuri's hair, stroking gently over the tangled mess. Yuri doesn't quiet, though; his breathing becomes heavy, the squirming becomes thrashing, and there are words mixed into the whimpering. "Yuri," Otabek shakes Yuri's shoulder, hoping to wake him from his dream. "Come on, Yura, wake up. You're okay."

Yuri blinks awake and immediately scrambles away from Otabek, staring at him with wide eyes full of fear. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I won't do it again, I promise!" The words come out in a garbled mess of Russian and English.

" _Yuriyim_ , it's just me. It's Beka. You haven't done anything wrong, I'm not mad at you."

Yuri wrinkles his brow and blinks at Otabek. "Beka? Where are we? What's... what's happening?" He's back to speaking Russian like they always do between themselves.

"We're in Marseille for the Grand Prix Final. You're sick, _zhanym_."

"Oh. I don't... remember. I'm sorry." His voice is small and scared and a couple of tears slip down his cheek.

Otabek scoots closer and reaches out to brush the tears away, but Yuri's eyes widen again and he pulls himself into a tiny ball. "Get away from me! Don't fucking touch me!" Again, the mix of Russian and English.

"Oh _Yuriyim_." Otabek scoots back on the bed until he can stand up. He backs away to put even more distance between them, wanting to help Yuri feel safe. "It's still just me, your Beka. I'd never hurt you." His heart is breaking for Yuri and whatever he's been through to make him react like this.

"I don't know what's real..." Back to Russian, and he sounds so frightened and small.

"I'm real, Yura. You're here with me in France and you're safe. You're always safe with me. I'd never hurt you, and I'd kill anyone who tried." As he says the words, Otabek knows them to be true. "I'm real and I love you." He hadn't planned on saying that, either, but it's the truth and he doesn't regret it.

"I'm scared, Beka."

"I know, but I'm taking care of you."

"Please." Yuri reaches out with a faintly trembling hand.

"Yes, _zhanym_ , of course. But I want to take your temperature, is that okay?" Yuri nods and Otabek quickly digs through his medical bag until he comes up with the temporal artery thermometer his mother had insisted he travel with. He returns to the bed and takes Yuri's hand, carefully settling in next to him.

"I'm tired, Beka, but I'm scared. I still don't know what's real."

"You can go back to sleep. I'll be right here watching over you." He squeezes Yuri's hand gently. "I'll wake you up if you have another nightmare."

"Okay," Yuri concedes with a tiny voice. He shuffles back under the covers and settles his head in Otabek's lap once again. "Don't leave me," he mumbles as his eyes close.

"Never." Otabek brushes the hair away from Yuri's face. "Sleep now."

It's only a matter of minutes before Yuri is asleep again. He's still crying and whimpering and shifting and he's hot. Too hot. Otabek reaches for the thermometer and runs it across Yuri's forehead, frowning at the reading. He should call Viktor; that's why he had stayed, after all. But Yuri and Viktor weren't as close as they had once been and there was no telling how Yuri would react if he woke up to Viktor in the room. Then again...

Realizing he's thinking himself round in circles, Otabek reaches for his phone and dials Viktor's number.

Five minutes later, there's a soft tap at the door and Otabek climbs off the bed, careful not to jostle Yuri. He opens the door for Viktor who gives him an appraising look before wrapping him in a hug. Caught off guard, Otabek is tense at first, but after a moment or so relaxes in Viktor's embrace. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome. You look like you're about done in." Viktor releases Otabek and looks past him to the bed where Yuri is a miserable, sweaty lump, half buried under the covers. "Have you taken his temperature recently?" He crosses the room to settle on the edge of the bed, reaching out to wipe away the tears creeping down Yuri's face. Yuri frowns but doesn't open his eyes. 

"39.5 just before I called you. Should we call an ambulance?" Otabek lingers beside the bed, anxiously chewing on his lower lip. He hates seeing Yuri like this and being essentially helpless.

"Mmm, I think not yet. We'll take his temperature again in a while and if it's risen then yes, we'll call an ambulance. Hopefully, this is it spiking, though, and it will break soon." Viktor stands up and motions Otabek toward the bed. "Come on, back into bed with you. You've done well, but let me take care of both of you for a while."

Otabek nods and sighs, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He crawls into bed in front of Yuri, pulling the covers up and over them as Yuri shivers in his arms. He whimpers softly and presses closer, tucking his head against Otabek's neck. "Shh, _zhanym_ , it'll be okay." 

There's a rustling sound from the other side of the bed and Otabek looks up to see Viktor undressing down to his underpants. "What are you doing?"

Viktor pauses and, for the first time Otabek can remember, seems to feel awkward. "Ah, sorry. When we were younger he used to come to me when he had nightmares. At first he'd just crawl into bed with me and curl up on the far side of the bed. Eventually he felt comfortable enough to want to cuddle and let me hold him. You know, I used to sleep naked, but quickly realized that I should probably at least wear underpants." He grabs his lounge pants and begins to pull them back on. "It just seemed natural. Sorry."

Otabek considers for a moment. "I don't mind, if you think it'll help."

Viktor's eyes meet Otabek's, searching. "I don't think it will hurt."

"Okay."

Viktor steps out of the pants once more and slides into bed behind Yuri, spooning him and hooking his chin over Yuri's shoulder. "You're okay, _myshka_ , I'm here." He tucks one arm under Yuri, holding the boy close to his chest and his other hand comes up to softly stroke Yuri's temple. Viktor's eyes meet Otabek's over the top of Yuri's head. "Close your eyes, Otabek, you can rest, too. I'll look after you both." 

There's never been a point arguing with Viktor, nor does Otabek want to, honestly, so he lets his eyes slip shut, leaning his head against Yuri's. Viktor begins to sing softly and Otabek vaguely recognizes it as an old Russian lullaby.

_Spi mladyenets, moi prekrasný,_  
_bayushki bayu,_  
_tikho smotrit myesyats yasný_  
_f kolýbyel tvayu._  
_Stanu skazývat' ya skazki,_  
_pyesenki spayu,_  
_tý-zh dremli, zakrývshi glazki,_  
_bayushki bayu._

By the time Viktor starts on the second verse Yuri has settled down and Otabek is asleep. He continues to sing, though, still stroking Yuri's hair and occasionally reaching across to brush his fingers across Otabek's forehead, trying to smooth away the worry lines.

* * *

Otabek wakes up to a shove to his chest and low voices. There's the feeling of someone hastily exiting the bed and it takes him a moment to remember where he is, but then his eyes fly open and he pushes himself up onto his elbow. "Yura?" 

"He's okay," comes Viktor's voice out of the dark, "just a bit nauseous. His fever seems to have broken and he's lucid. I think we're out of the woods." Otabek starts to get out of bed but Viktor's fingers wrap around his arm, stopping him. "Don't. He hates anyone seeing him being sick."

Otabek exhales deeply and falls back onto the bed. "Thank you, Viktor. I know Yuri has been... distant with you over the past few years, and I appreciate you doing this for him regardless."

Viktor winces as the sounds of another round of vomiting reach them from the bathroom. "It's not his fault. He'd never admit it now, but we were close like brothers for a long time, and I know I hurt him deeply when I left for Japan to be with my Yuuri without telling him or saying goodbye. I should have known better." A momentary pause, then, "I did know better. I still care about him."

"I know that. I just wish he could see it, too. He needs to know that he's loved." 

"And you shouldn't have to shoulder all of his burdens on your own. I'm glad I could help tonight, at least." Viktor reaches out and finds Otabek's hand in the dark, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know he's not always easy to deal with. If you ever need to talk, please don't hesitate to call or text me."

"Thanks. I might take you up on that."

There's the sound of the toilet flushing, then the bathroom door opens and Yuri pads back into the room. Viktor sits up a bit and pulls his legs up, making room for Yuri to slide back into bed. Yuri settles in facing Viktor this time and groans as he tucks his head under Viktor's chin. "I want to go home, Vitya," he whimpers.

"I know _myshka_ , I know. I'm sorry. But I'm here, and Otabek is here, and we'll look after you until you feel better."

"Beka?" Yuri squirms in Viktor's arms, looking over his shoulder to try to find Otabek, so he molds himself against Yuri's back, reaching out to take his hand and lace their fingers together.

"I'm here, _Yuriyim_." He presses a soft kiss just behind Yuri's ear. "You scared me for a while there."

"I don't... things are fuzzy. I'm sorry."

"Shh, don't apologize. How are you feeling?" 

"Mmm, gross. Cold. Sleepy."

Otabek tucks the duvet closer in around Yuri and moves that last bit closer. "You can go back to sleep, we'll still be here when you wake up."

Viktor drapes an arm over both of them, pressing a kiss first to Yuri's head, then to Otabek's. "Both of you need to rest."

Yuri tucks his head back under Viktor's chin and sighs softly. "Thank you, Vitya. And I'm sorry."

"Me too, _myshka_ , me too."

Otabek smiles as he closes his eyes. Things are far from fixed between Yuri and Viktor, but it's a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading! comments and kudos give me life!
> 
> also, HUGE thanks to my alpha readers! this chapter wouldn't have happened without you!
> 
> note 1: yuuri is fine, he and viktor are fine. he just didn't need to be in this scene
> 
> note 2: viktor calls yuri _myshka_ ("little mouse") because when yuri first started skating with yakov he was so small and quiet that he reminded viktor of a little mouse. obviously yuri changed, but the nickname didn't.
> 
> note 3: the transliteration of the lullaby it not mine


	6. 2016 Revolution On Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this took so long; the boys were being stupid and it took me forever to unpack everything that was going on with them. it's also shorter than i intended it to be, but... quality over quantity, i hope.

The knock comes so softly that Otabek almost doesn't hear it; it sounds less like a knock and more like someone gently drumming their fingers on the door. But he hears it regardless and is surprised to find Yuri standing on the other side wearing his Team Russia jacket with the hood pulled up, black jeans, and leopard print boots. "Hi," he says softly when the door opens. "Can I come in?"

"Uh. Yeah, of course." Otabek steps back with a frown. This quiet, subdued boy is not the Yuri that Otabek has come to know. 

"Thanks." Yuri curls up on the settee, knees pulled up under his chin. He looks much better than he did when Otabek had left him with Viktor in Marseille, but still worn out. 

"Congratulations on winning Nationals," Otabek says softly.

"Thanks, I guess. Not much of a challenge, though, with Viktor retired and Georgi out with his back injury," Yuri huffs, seemingly personally affronted. 

"Still, a win is a win. It's not like there's an asterisk by your name with a note that Viktor and Georgi weren't there."

"It doesn't matter if they had been, I still would have won. I just would have had actual fucking competition."

Otabek sighs and changes tack. "How are you feeling? Do you want a bottle of water or Gatorade or something?"

"I'm fine, but I'd be a whole lot better if people would quit fucking fussing over me."

"We fuss because we worry and we worry because you were very sick and went ahead and skated the Grand Prix Final against doctor's advice, and skated Nationals even though your federation would have put you through to Euros anyway." It's the closest Otabek has ever come to raising his voice at Yuri, but he feels justified. He'd been worried about Yuri since Yakov had brought him to Otabek's hotel room three weeks ago, and now Yuri is going to be surly with him? "But I have a gig the night after the show, so I'll be over here working on my laptop. When you retract your claws and feel like being halfway nice again, come get me." Otabek settles at the desk and puts his headphones on, opening Ableton. He's actually set for his gig the night after the show, but there's always the next gig.

He's been working for a while when he feels a soft bump to the back of his shoulder. He's tempted to turn around and give Yuri a hug, or at least pet his hair, but he stops himself. Maybe it's a little bit petty, but he's going to make Yuri work for this. He does pull his headphones down around his neck, though, allowing the music to play on in the background. Yuri's head stays planted firmly against his shoulder for the duration of the current song. A few measures into the next song, Yuri hooks his chin over Otabek's shoulder. "Beka... I'm sorry." His whispered breath ghosts over Otabek's neck and a shiver runs down his spine. 

Otabek's instinct is to tell Yuri that it's okay, but... it isn't, really. So instead he leans his head against Yuri's. Yuri sighs softly and Otabek has the distinct feeling that he's trying to work up the nerve to say something. The song plays on between them, and eventually Yuri finds his voice. "Are you mad at me, Otabek?"

The use of his full name startles Otabek. He turns his head slightly and presses a kiss to Yuri's temple. "No, I'm not mad, Yura." He closes Ableton and removes the headphones. "Come on, you can't be comfortable leaning over like that." 

"I don't mind." But Yuri straightens up and steps away, allowing Otabek to stand as well. "I can leave if you'd rather." 

"I don't want you to leave." He wasn't sure if Yuri would come to his room this time, but even when he hoped he would, this wasn't at all how he expected it to go. They desperately need to talk, but not like this. He sits on the bed and settles back against the headboard. This is where they usually end up anyway. "Come on. If you're going to stay, you might as well make yourself comfortable."

Yuri nods and pulls his jacket off, then sits on the end of the bed to remove his boots. He shuffles up to join Otabek against the headboard, but his right foot catches in the comforter and he winces and hisses in a breath, pulling his sock off and flinging it across the room. 

"Yura!" Otabek reaches out to grab Yuri's foot but stops himself just shy of actually touching him. The top of his foot is swollen and bruised, and Otabek knows exactly what that means. "When did you do this? You shouldn't be skating!"

"Just before Nationals. It's just a stress fracture, it'll be fine." Yuri shrugs and impatiently shoves his hair back behind an ear. "I have an air boot for it and Yakov and Viktor made me swear up and down that I'd stick to triples for this show. I'll just have to rest between now and Euros."

"You shouldn't be here, Yura." Otabek tries to keep the exasperation out of his voice but isn't sure he's succeeded.

"Viktor did threaten to lock me in their guest bedroom to keep me from coming. But I just..." He ducks his head, but not before Otabek catches the faint blush on his cheeks. "I wanted to see you."

"You don't talk to me for almost three weeks and now you're saying you came here because you wanted to see me?" They need to talk about this, so Otabek doesn't quite regret the words. The tone, however... 

"I'm sorry," Yuri says again, his voice tiny. "I didn't mean to ignore you, really. I was just still so sick and exhausted and didn't have time to recover before Nationals and then my fucking foot gave out on me and Viktor has been driving me crazy with his hovering and fussing and it was all too much." 

Yuri has pulled himself into a tiny ball and looks absolutely miserable and suddenly Otabek feels like a complete dick. "Come here," he says gently, opening his arms to Yuri. After a few moments of hesitation, Yuri carefully slides into Otabek's lap and settles his head on Otabek's shoulder. Otabek wraps his arms around Yuri and uncrosses his legs, pulling them up to bracket Yuri. "I'm sorry, _zhanym_." He drops a kiss into golden hair. "I was worried about you. And I was scared I'd done something wrong."

"I was just confused," Yuri murmurs as he shifts and settles in against Otabek. 

Otabek loses track of how long they sit there quietly together, just relishing each other's presence. At some point Yuri takes one of Otabek's hands in his, lacing their fingers together, and Otabek's thumb brushes across Yuri's knuckles. He thinks of how well they fit together, and then decides he could get used to this. But no, that's dangerous territory. He's just about managed to shove those thoughts back down into a dark corner of his brain when Yuri speaks again.

"You said you love me." 

Otabek's heart stops.

"Back in Marseille when I was sick, you said you love me. I know I was hallucinating shit, but I'm pretty sure I didn't make that up."

Otabek glances down, but Yuri's face is still tucked away against his shoulder. "I... Yeah, I did say that." This is the most afraid he's ever been. It feels like his entire life is hanging on by a thread. "I didn't think you'd remember," he admits softly.

Silence falls again and Otabek is afraid to move, afraid to even breathe.

"I..." Yuri starts and stops. "Beka..." Another pause and Otabek's heart is in his throat. "Sorry, I can't..." Yuri gives a vague wave of his hand and there it is, the sound of Otabek's world crashing down around him ringing in his ears.

" Yeah, of course. I didn't mean..." He's never lied to Yuri before, but sometimes lies are best for everyone. "I just meant that you're my friend and I care about you." He really hopes Yuri doesn't pick up on the way his voice wavers.

"Oh. Well then I guess we can just forget it." Wait, why does Yuri sound disappointed? And now Yuri is pulling out of Otabek's arms. "I'll just... Sorry. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

No, this isn't right. "Yura, wait." He reaches out and his hand settles on Yuri's back. He needs to see Yuri's eyes. "Please look at me." 

After a few moments Yuri turns to face him, but his head is still bowed, face hidden by his hair. "Otabek, please..." There are tears in Yuri's voice.

The hand that had been on Yuri's back now settles on his waist, and Otabek reaches up with his other hand to cup Yuri's cheek. "Yura, _süyiktim_. Trust me?"

Yuri slowly lifts his head and his eyes eventually meet Otabek's, and now Otabek _knows_ he's right. " _Yuriyim,_ I'm sorry, I lied. You are my friend, and I do care about you, but it's not just that. I only said that because I thought... I thought you didn't want this. Didn't want me."

Otabek is pretty sure Yuri mutters something about a dumbass, but he doesn't have time to properly process it because Yuri's lips are on his and his brain short-circuits. A moment later, though, Yuri pulls away. His cheeks are bright red and he can't quite meet Otabek's eyes. "Is this the right time?" 

" _God_ , yes." 

Otabek pulls Yuri back in and kisses him like he's been wanting to for months now. Yuri absolutely melts against him, arms wrapping around Otabek's waist as he pulls himself that last bit closer. Otabek's hand finds its way under Yuri's shirt and Yuri gasps against Otabek's mouth when his fingers graze the small of Yuri's back. 

"Sensitive?" Otabek smiles against Yuri's lips.

"How about I let you find out?" Yuri answers, nipping at Otabek's lower lip. 

"Hmm." Otabek hums as his kisses his way up Yuri's jaw.

"Oh, and Beka? I love you, too."

They finally fall asleep tangled around each other as the first light of dawn creeps in around the curtains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first, i have to give HUGE thanks to skatestudy for alpha reading this and seriously holding my hand while the boys were being stupid at each other (and me!)
> 
> now, thanks to all you for reading this! it's my first foray into this fandom and i wasn't sure how it would go. your comments and kudos have meant the world to me and have made me feel very welcome!


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